


under the water.

by Irrwisch



Series: mermaids. [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Uriel (Supernatural), Gen, M/M, Mermaids, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Orphan Castiel, POV Castiel, Present Tense, Stars, Umbrellas, flasbacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 01:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14438079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irrwisch/pseuds/Irrwisch
Summary: Inside, Uri still sits dutiful in front of the window, turned towards the sky. With his dead eyes, he watches the raising stars while Castiel watches the turning lights. And for the first time, they don’t see the same thing past the horizon.





	under the water.

**Author's Note:**

> This'll make more sense, if you read "past the horizon" first. As a disclaimer: I have no clue how orphanages work; didn't look it up, so bear with me and just pretend it's a bad one. THis got longer than I planned and I'm sorry if the ending sounds/seems weird. I wrote the last 2,000 words in a go - and that's usually not the best sign for me. But, I was determined. I hope you like it (: Let me know whether you do or not!

 

_“I breathe through the water and all around me is nothing but the desert.”_

~*

Rain is tapping against the window. Castiel has not really been paying attention to it, though. To him, it’s just a very distant sound from somewhere else, far away. Perhaps it’s not even here right now, anyway. At last, he turns his head to look. There’s water running down the glass and it is all grey beyond the window. To his knowledge, it has been raining for a while now. He wonders if Dean took an umbrella. He often forgets, joking about “the old times”. He always confuses Castiel with that. He _gave_ Dean an umbrella. He gave him the very important one. Well, okay, technically Dean gave it back to him, or gifted it to him first – that thought process was always very difficult, figuring out who did what first.

Castel sighs.

It’s still raining.

When Dean comes home, he’ll likely notice how quiet it is, _again_. Castiel doesn’t mind. He likes the quiet. Dean has always been rather loud at times, but that was okay too. Sometimes, loud is good. That doesn’t mean Castiel does very well with the combination of Dean, Jo and Charlie, because they are all relatively loud and together they can get rather deafening.

Castiel takes hold of his book and gets up, putting it away. Maybe he should prepare some food – just something small. Dean’s usually hungry after work and Castiel likes it better when he doesn’t eat junk food right away.

So, yes, he’ll go prepare something. Not salad, though. Dean’s not big on salads, unless it comes with meat. And then Dean often regards it as decoration and doesn’t eat it at all. He grabs the cutting knife and turns to look into the fridge. Something’s bound to be in there, after all.

 

~*

 

“I’m hungry, mommy.”

Castiel is three years old, he’s been wearing the same shirt – his only shirt – for the past nine days and he stands in what should be considered the kitchen area of his home. Although there is not much of a kitchen in here. There’s a fridge, but it’s always been open and dead and empty so Castiel doesn’t actually know you store food in there, so he often uses it as a prime hiding spot. He’s actually wondered what it’s for. It couldn’t be a cabinet, or a closet, because it was empty. Maybe it was a spare, he thought, and never gave it much thought after that.

“I’m busy. Go away.”

But mommy is never busy. She never _seems_ busy, she’s always just standing there, smoking and waiting. Castiel thinks she might be waiting for one of those strange smelly men who come by sometimes. He can’t imagine that’s a lot of fun. She’s always all smiles when they’re here, but she doesn’t look happy, and after they’re gone, she drinks a lot and doesn’t make him food. That means he has to go outside again, to see if he can find something in the garbage cans. The food in there is never appealing, but ugly food beats no food. He just hopes it would stop raining. He hates the rain. Why does it even ever rain? “Can you at least fix Uri?” he asks. Uri – Uriel – is his teddy bear. It’s his best friend, but Uri is hurt now. His mommy had wanted to throw him away, because “he needs to grow up already”, but Castiel had held on. Mommy had been drinking real lots before and also eating a lot of sugar, so she wasn’t really strong. But she still ripped off Uri’s arm, and now she has to fix him. “Jeez, you still have that fucking thing? You’re almost, like, old. How old are you again? Ah, whatever, forget it, now leave me alone.”

Castiel pouts a little. She hurt Uri, so she should help him feel better. But what if he would give him to her, and she would hurt him more? That wouldn’t be nice. Maybe it would really be better if he did it himself. He’d need a needle. And some thread. Maybe the trash would yield something useful. Maybe mommy has a needle for him. He doesn’t really want to ask the neighbours. They smell not very nice, and they’re usually rather rude. They are a bit like the men that come to visit mommy. He doesn’t like them. Whenever they spot him, they’re eyeing him, and that makes Castiel very uncomfortable. “Do you have needle for me, mommy? I can fix Uri myself, then.”

Still, she doesn’t look at him: “You’re still here? I got no needle for your sorry ass. Ya know how fucking expensive they are? Even if I had one, I wouldn’t give it to _you_. Now, could you please **piss off**?” Oh. Mommy’s getting angry. Castiel can see that vein on her neck. It usually means he should do what she says, because he doesn’t like her angry. He twists the hem of his shirt and looks around, to see if he can find his shoes. He has one pair of them, and they could look better, he thinks. Mommy’s shoes look better, and the men’s shoes do too. Their soles don’t flap like his do. But he doesn’t really know how to fix them. He thought the big book-place might help him. He can’t read very well yet, but it might still be enough to help him fix his shoe. But the nice ladies there – they look and smell very nice – don’t like to let him in and tell him he can enter as soon as he’s had a bath. But mom says it’s enough if he just goes into the rain and he figured water is water. The outside one’s just always cold. Maybe it’s also his clothes. Maybe he should wash that and maybe if it smells nice like the ladies, they’ll let him in. And then he could fix his shoe.

Castiel sighs.

It’s still raining.

 

~*

 

“And now put the knife down, Baby. Real nice and easy.”

It’s a voice right next to his ear. Castiel blinks and looks sideways. It’s Dean. Of course it’s Dean. Who else would it be? “Knife?” What does he mean? Dean just glances up at him and smiles, and then he turns his eyes back down again, towards their hands. Oh. There’s a knife in his hands. Dean is currently guiding their hands towards the counter. “I was going to make you some food. You’re always angry after work. I don’t want you to eat junk food all the time.”

They put the knife down and Dean frowns. “Baby, I’m not angry. Have I been angry? I’m sorry.” Castiel tilts his head and looks at Dean. “Angry? Why? You’re not angry. I said hungry. You’re always hungry after work.” Dean smiles. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Are you feeding me up, Cass? Afraid someone else is gonna steal your man if you don’t fatten him up?” He winks, that idiot and Castiel pushes him a little. “Even fat, you’d still be attractive.” Dean blushes a little. “Man, you know how to make a girl blush.” He leans forward and pecks Castiel on the lips. “Do anything interesting today?” Castiel shakes his head. “Not really. I was reading a book, it was raining and then I _planned_ to make you some food, but that did not quite work out.” Dean chuckled and took his hand, pulling him towards the couch.

“Is it alright if I turn on the TV a little?” Castiel nods. As long as it’s not too loud, it will be okay. Besides, Dean doesn’t do very well with silence. He likes to talk a lot about a lot of things. That’s okay, because Castiel is glad to listen. Dean’s loud, but his voice is quiet when he talks to him. “Sam invited us to his birthday party. I said I was gonna ask you. You think you wanna come?” Castiel nods. “I like Sam. Would it be alright if I left earlier? Drunken you and drunken Jo are insufferable.” Dean barks out laughter. “Yeah, sure, man. And, don’t worry, it’s just gonna be us. No weird side-staring ‘cause of the mermaids.”

Of, yes, the mermaids. Castiel is quite fond of the mermaids, ever since Dean told him all about them. Their existence in his life give him some peace and it’s nice thinking about them. Dean also said that sometimes, they come close to shore even though they live beyond the horizon, and that it’s very dangerous getting to close to the water. He also said that Castiel should be able to hear them coming closer. And while that might certainly apply, it’s more of a... feeling. It was kind of a pulling, maybe. He wonders if he always had that, but was never able to put a name to it.

Dean’s friends and family all know about the mermaids – the basics at least – so they don’t look at him strange when he mentions them. Somehow, mermaids don’t tend to be a part of polite talking with strangers. They still think he’s weird. Castiel knows that a few of Dean’s people think he isn’t good enough for Dean, because he’s crazy. And on some days, he silently agrees. Blacking out with a sharp knife in your hand was not exactly the poster model for mental health.

He never responds to Dean, and looks out the window. He wonders if mermaids can talk through the rain, too.

 

~*

 

Later, after dinner, Dean lies in their bed and breathes softly. Sometimes, he snores. But he only snores if he’s drunk. That’s okay, because Castiel knows it will happen. He himself is restless, though. It seems easy to drift to the window and look outside. The roads are all wet and the pavement is very shiny. The light of the streetlamps reflects very nicely of them. For a brief moment, he considers slipping outside, but decides against it. Ever after Dean told him of the mermaids – and Castiel believed him – he snuck out often to see the shore. He always thought that maybe he’d see them. That they’d come because he came, too. Of course, that had been ridiculous to think and it still is. Still, the urge is there sometimes. He never tells Dean. Somehow it seems wrong, telling him when he’ll be at the shore.

Castiel breathes a sigh and turns away from the window, towards Dean. He loves Dean. He loves Dean so much. Dean is the only one he’d give up the mermaids for. He just hopes that’s enough.

It doesn’t seem like enough.

 

~*

 

_“There’s a boat sailing through the stars. If I’m fast enough, I can catch it.”_

 

~*

 

There’s rain tapping against the window.

Castiel is almost five years old, and he’s watching the rain from the inside. He still doesn’t like it; it _still_ makes rummaging through the trash unpleasant. Also, it makes the food wet and soggy sometimes. He’s almost sure food shouldn’t be soggy, but he’s not quite sure. He sighs and looks down at Uri. Uri lost an arm, and leg, both eyes and half an ear. Castiel tried to comfort Uri sometimes; because he’s sure missing so many limbs must hurt. He just hopes Uri’s forgiven him for not being able to sew them back on. He pats the toy’s head and brings him back into his room. His room is not very big, but it has a mattress – a very old, dirty and used mattress, but it was better than the floor. He hauled it in just two months ago. It had been quite exhausting, but he’d been determined.

Castiel places Uri on the bed very gently. It’s hard for him to sit properly with just one leg and one arm, so Castiel is always very careful. Uri doesn’t like falling over. In truth, Castiel doesn’t like leaving Uri alone, but he’s got to go out for some food. It’s been a while, and sadly, the rain doesn’t look like it’s gonna stop. He should’ve gone yesterday, but well, can’t change it now. Castiel picks up his only shoe (he never got to fix the other one and then lost it, too) and puts it on. Maybe the rain might be good. He hasn’t showered in quite some time, so the water is probably gonna be good. Castiel sighs and still wishes it would stop.

He leaves the house and heads for the biggest nearby garbage dump. It’s a very big container and he has to climb a little to peek inside. Unfortunately, he often has to get in, because he has problems reaching everything. He hates the smell, but he figures it doesn’t really matter. He won’t ever go to the book-place with the nice ladies again. They would never let him in with just one shoe. They’re nice there. They all have two shoes, and nice looking clothes. He gets jealous sometimes. He wants the nice things, too. But he isn’t entitled to them at all. It makes him sad; and it makes him angry. He bets their food’s nice too. He needs to climb into the trash to reach some passable-looking fruit in the back. It might be a banana, but he isn’t that sure. It could also be a cucumber. It’d be a very strange apple, so he rules that possibility out. He doesn’t dare sniffing at it, either. He’ll eat it; and either it will be food or he will die. Simple choices, and that’s okay.

He climbs back out again and turns around to go back. There are some lights in the distance. They are the colourful lights of the city, and they look pretty in the rain. Castiel’s never been in the actual city before; and to him it sounds a little like a story. He remains on the spot for a moment, looking at the lights in the rain. There’s a breeze coming from the shore, and for a quiet moment, everything stands still.

 

Castiel slips back in quietly. Mommy is still taking a bath in the empty tub. He wonders how much longer she will take. He’s pretty sure the smelly men will come back soon and somehow, he doesn’t want to be alone with them. Perhaps he should tell her. He should also tell her that he’s going to bed. He hasn’t told her that he got a real bed now, and he won’t do it either. She might take it away or destroy it. He doesn’t knock on the bathroom door, he just heads in. Mommy’s gonna yell at him no matter what. She’s still lying in the tub like before. Didn’t she move? Or maybe she moved back. Because of course she moved in the meantime. “Mommy”, he says quietly, “You need to get up. The men are gonna come back soon, and I don’t like them. They’re your friends, so you have to say hello to them. You’ll wake up tomorrow, right? I’m going to bed. Good night, mommy. I love you.” He doesn’t kiss her good-night and he turns around and leaves.

She won’t wake up tomorrow, and he knows that.

 

Castiel wakes up the next morning and eats his banana. It actually seems to be a banana, so that’s nice. It stopped raining last night, so he goes and opens a window. There’s a nice breeze outside, and he’s enjoying the far-away sounds of the city. He goes back to his room to grab Uri, checks if mommy’s still sleeping and returns to the living room. If he sits just right in front of the window, he can’t see anything but the sky. The sky is very blue and so very pretty and he simply sits there and listens to Uri tell him stories about angels.

It must be later when there’s a knock on the door. Castiel lost track of time while listening to Uri. He had hoped mommy would have woken by now, because only her friends ever come over. But he needs to let them in; or at least tell them mommy’s asleep. So he leaves Uri with a nice view of the window and gets up to open the door. He doesn’t know the man on the other side, but he smells like all of mommy’s friends.  “Mommy’s asleep. Can you come back later?” he says, because you have to be polite to people. The man grunts. “Imma wake ‘er up.” He pushes past Castiel and enters the house. He heads to the bathroom straight away and Castiel wonders if he has been there before. He eagerly follows the man upstairs.

He stomps the door open. “Wake up, bitch, I ain’t got that much time to spare.” He takes her by the shoulders and shakes her, but mommy doesn’t wake up. “What the fuck?” the man mutters and turns to Castiel. “How long’s she been like that?” Castiel tilts his head to the side. “Today is day three. It’s a very long nap, isn’t it?” The man frowns. “I can get her outta here for you, boy. There ain’t anything to salvage. But, you gotta blow me; I didn’t come here for nothin’.” Castiel frowns. What does _blow_ mean? So, at a loss, Castiel blows at him. It’s a weird request, but, oh, well. The man slaps him across the cheek. “Don’t be stupid, boy. Didn’t your whore of a mom teach you nothin’?” Castiel was about to respond, but the man quickly unbuckles his pants and takes his penis out, shoving it in Castiel’s face. “Now, go at it, boy, I haven’t got all day.” Castiel looks at the man and he thinks of all the times mommy was sad or angry after the men left. “No”, he says and looks at the man’s face. He pulls a grimace and tries to push his penis closer to Castiel’s face. “C’mon, I even get rid of that mom of yours. Fair deal, ain’t it?” Castiel keeps looking into his face, repeating himself. The man grunts, shoves himself back into his pants and backhands Castiel into the wall. “You’re even more worthless than your mother. What a disappointment.” Castiel’s cheek throbs and he doesn’t look after the man as he leaves. Instead, he sits against the wall and wonders why he doesn’t feel much.

He knew mommy wasn’t going to wake up, and yet, he thinks, confirmation should hurt at least a little bit, no?

He wonders if there will be a breeze from the shore tonight.

 

He sits there for a very long time, not moving. He doesn’t quite know what to do. There’s been knocking on the door, but Castiel figures it’s just another of mommy’s friends and he doesn’t feel like letting them in. Yes, perhaps they would be nicer to him, but somehow, he doubts it. Should he do something? But what would he do? The man said he would take mommy away. So, does that mean she has to go sleep somewhere else? But where would that be? And how would Castiel get her there? Somehow he wishes he could go to the big book-place and look it up. He’s sure they would have answers there. Perhaps the nice ladies could even help him.

He hears the door opening and he get up. His cheek still hurts a little, but it’s a lot better now. He heads for the stairs and there a lot of people standing in front of him. They all wear the same clothes and hold something in their hands. He wonders what that is. It looks very small. Maybe it’s a toy? “Mommy is asleep”, he hears himself say. “Would you leave? I’m sorry. Can you come back tomorrow? I’m sure she’s awake then. Were you knocking? Are you friend of mommy?” The men in front of him put their toys away at their belt. They even have a bag for it. They must really like that toy. The man right in front of him holds up one hand and smiles. “No worries, Castiel. That’s your name, right?” He nods, because he’s right. He reaches out and touches the man’s cheek. His hair is a light colour and there seems to be hair on his face, but it doesn’t look like a beard. It feels funny, too. The man goes very still and lets Castiel touch him. “What’s that?” Castiel asks, “Who are you? Are you a friend of mommy?” The man smiles. “It’s called stubble, Castiel. You’ll get it too, when you grow up. My name’s Marc. Listen, we have a very nice lady waiting for you downstairs. Do you want to meet her? Her name is Mary, and she’s very excited to meet you.”

He didn’t say anything about mommy, and frankly, Castiel cares very little about Mary downstairs. He’s sure she’s nice, but he doesn’t know her. Why would she be excited meeting him? He frowns and doesn’t retreat his hand. “Are you a friend of mommy?” Marc doesn’t look like a friend of mommy, and no-one else ever comes to visit them. “Come on”, Marc says and gently grabs his hand. “I’m going to introduce you to Mary, okay? We shouldn’t let her wait.” Marc is moving forward and tries to lift Castiel up. Overcome with sudden anger, Castiel kicks Marc in the chest, making him stumble a little and retreat his hands. The two men behind him pulled their toys out of their bag very quickly, until someone else seems to chastise them.

“ _Are you a friend of mommy?_ ” His voice doesn’t quite sound like his own and he’s waiting for the breeze to come, and he thinks he can feel it faintly passing by. Marc looks taken aback, then shakes his head. “No, I’m not. But maybe I could meet her?” He smiles and he looks nice, but right now, something in Castiel is just so _angry_. “No”, he says in a surprisingly steadfast voice. “Mommy is asleep and you should leave. You can come back when she’s awake. Then you can be her friend.” Marc looks crestfallen and he opens his mouth, but before he can say something, one of his friends behind him grunts: “This is ridiculous.” He pushes past Marc, and grabs Castiel by the collar. “Don’t be so nice to this kid, Marc. Just get him downstairs. We’ve got a body up there, for god’s sake.” Castiel yelps when the man picks him up. He thrashes wildly and hits the man in the teeth, who then drops him on the stairs. He hits his head, he thinks, because it hurts. Someone’s yelling, and he hurts and he thinks about the lights from last night and how still the world used to be. He wants mom to wake up. He wants to hit her, so she wakes up. He doesn’t want Marc’s smiles or a Mary waiting down the stairs.

The breeze is cold in his ears and he gets up, he thinks, and he runs to the bathroom, because if he says enough, mommy will get annoyed and wake up, he thinks.

 

The next thing he knows is him holding onto mommy. He doesn’t know why. He never even hugged her before and she’s going to be so angry at him hugging her. He can hear someone in the room and he flinches. All his anger is gone and he doesn’t understand where it came from in the first place. “Hey”, a soft voice says. Castiel thinks it belongs to Marc. He turns around and sees Marc kneeling next to the empty tub, smiling at him. “I don’t want to see Mary”, Castiel says and Marc just nods. “That’s okay. But you should tell her that yourself. Who knows, maybe she’s nice?” Castiel shakes his head. He doesn’t care. The ladies at the big book-place are nice and he couldn’t think of a reason why Marc would have brought one of them here. He sits up again and looks down at mommy. “Someone was here before”, he says, “He wanted to see mommy. He said he would take her away from here if I blew him. Where did he want to take her? And what does blowing have to do with a penis? He seemed so frustrated.” Marc looks angry. Castiel can see his jaw clenching. He reaches out and touches Marc’s stubble again. It still feels weird. Marc doesn’t have that angry vein on his neck like mommy did. Maybe he isn’t _that_ angry. “Did he hurt you?” Marc asks in a quiet voice. Castiel squints. That’s not an angry voice. His voice doesn’t match his face and it’s confusing. “You’re angry”, he states, “but you’re quiet. I don’t understand.” Marc’s hands are twitching, like he wants to reach out, but he doesn’t. His friends aren’t with him, Castiel notices for the first time. “Did he hurt you?” Marc asks again, with more vigour in his voice, now. Castiel touches his cheeks. It barely hurts, now. “No”, he says and Marc’s jaw is clenching again. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. “Will you come down with me? I just want to make sure you’re not hurt elsewhere.” Castiel doesn’t respond to him. He’s not hurt, but Marc won’t believe that. “It will rain soon”, he says instead. “I have to go out before. I don’t like getting wet.” Marc smiles. “Don’t worry. We have an umbrella for you, so you won’t get wet.” Castiel shakes his head, because Marc doesn’t understand. He gets out of the tub, avoiding Marc’s helping hands and looks at mommy. He says nothing else and bypasses Marc and heads down the stairs.

There are quite a few people down here. Marc’s friends, he presumes. He thinks he hears a woman say his name, but he doesn’t stop and he doesn’t care. He’s getting hungry, and if they came for mommy, then they should take her. He doesn’t want them here and he just wants them to go. He leaves the house and turns to the alley when someone grabs his hand. He tries to stem against it, but he’s not strong enough. He’s just hungry, don’t they see that? Aren’t they hungry too?

He gets shoved to the cars that block the road and then he’s lifted up and placed in someone’s lap, he thinks. He doesn’t pay attention. He tries to wriggle free, but the arms are relentless. He thinks it might be that Mary person Marc mentioned. Someone’s stroking his hair and it makes him uncomfortable. He turns around and he sees the blue-red-light atop the car. It looks a bit like the distant lights from the city. He stands up and climbs the Mary person. She’s clearly taken aback, because she tries to hold him, but he quickly climbs atop her to the car roof. He sits in front of the lights and watches them. Red, blue, red, blue, red. He waits for the breeze and the world to stand still, but it doesn’t happen. The breeze never comes and it’s not still at all.

 

Inside, Uri still sits dutiful in front of the window, turned towards the sky. With his dead eyes, he watches the raising stars while Castiel watches the turning lights. And for the first time, they don’t see the same thing past the horizon.

 

~*

 

_“The sea ate all the stars. Without the water, the night is too dark to see.”_

 

~*

 

There’s a breeze coming through the window and Castiel enjoys it silently. If he concentrates enough, he can smell the sea in the air. He knows it’s just his imagination, but he likes the smell of it anyway. Behind him, Dean stirs on the bed. He shifts and presumably turns to look at the bedside clock. He groans loudly and flops back into his pillow. It must be time to get up, Castiel thinks. Dean is not a morning person and he insists on “five more minutes, Cass”. He briefly wonders if he slept at all himself. He can’t remember waking up, but that wouldn’t be that strange, right? He can just be awake.

Sitting up, he turns to Dean and takes his blanket away. Dean whimpers. “You have to get up, Dean. Today’s a day for heroes, and Benny couldn’t stem that sort of responsibility alone, right?” Dean deflates. Ever since he joined the fire department, he had barely missed a day; always joking the day he would take off would turn out to be the one for heroes. Dean loves being a fireman. Castiel remembers how proud he’d been after his initiation. He smiles softly and gets up to start the coffee. It would still take few minutes to coax Dean out of bed and coffee would be a great help.

It’s quiet in their apartment and after Dean leaves, it will stay this way. Castiel might open a window and listen to distant sounds from the city. He would start a new painting today and then maybe this weird clammy feeling will leave him. It’s been sitting in his neck for a few days and getting rid of it would be preferable. The water heater turns off, and Castiel moves to pour it into the filter. He can hear the bathroom door opening and closing; Dean must have gotten up and into the shower. Good. The coffee would be ready and waiting by the time Dean was finished. Castiel smiles and pours more water into the filter, before he grabs his keys and goes outside to retrieve the paper.

It’s a humid day outside. He looks up and sees a few gray clouds overhead. It might rain today then. Very well. If the breeze keeps up, it will at least smell like water; and not just like a memory. And should he go to the shore later, it would even give him an excuse to actually take his umbrella. He doesn’t need a reason, of course, but it’s always nice to have one.

He keeps standing there for awhile. The city hasn’t fully awoken yet, and it’s a peaceful quiet. It’s the type of quiet that whispers into your ear and doesn’t let go until you flush it out with noise. He’s getting hungry. For a tiny moment, his feet want to take him to the closet dumpster just across the corner, but he can’t fathom why. He turns around and heads back inside. It’s a weird feeling in his gut, and he plans to shut it up with coffee and some bacon.

Castiel gets back inside, and sees Dean poking the coffee. The filter hasn’t run through yet, and Dean is getting prissy. He sighs and heads over to the fridge, pulling out some bacon. He turns the stove on and throws the strips in the pan. Dean turns slightly, but doesn’t dare leaving the coffeepot out of his sight. “We don’t have eggs”, Castiel says. “Will you pick some up on your way from work?” Dean just grunts and Castiel hopes he remembers. Finally, the coffee ran through and Dean wastes no time filling his cup, absorbing the warmth of it. When he sees this, Castiel wonders how Dean got the “sane” title and he was considered weird.

 

After roughly two cups of coffee and five strips of bacon, Dean seems to have evolved into a regular human again. “Okay”, he says, “I’m gonna go now. You’re gonna be fine, right? And you call if you need something.” Castiel barely suppresses and eye roll. “I need eggs”, he says and Dean huffs. “Yeah, I heard that. Don’t worry; I’m going to grab them. Are you home when I come back?” Castiel shrugs. “I’m not sure, but I probably will be. I was going to paint, I think. It will likely preoccupy me the entire day.” Dean nods, devours another piece of bacon and gets up to put on his shoes. He takes his jacket, gives Castiel a kiss, says good-bye and then he is gone and all is quiet inside.

Castiel closes his eyes to hear the wind. The window is closed, but the breeze is still there. He also can almost hear the water; taste the salt on his tongue. But he doesn’t want to; he doesn’t want to hear the water. He clenches his eyes tighter, and he hates that feeling in his gut. It tells him to get up and _go_ , but he doesn’t want to. Go where? And why? He doesn’t want to know. With a gasp, he tears himself out of it and gets up. If he’s busy, he’ll drown the whispers out. Perhaps he should put on music. Yes, that might be a splendid idea.

 

Someone takes his hand, very gently, and Castiel screams. Dean closed the door and no-one would be here. Sam would have called, and he didn’t do that. Sam would’ve rung the bell, but he didn’t do that. “Shhhh”, someone says quietly. “It’s okay, baby, it’s just me. Dean, remember? I’m home from work. I even brought the eggs, yeah?” Castiel turns around and stares at Dean, wide-eyed. No, no that couldn’t be. Dean _just_ left. He hadn’t even started painting yet. And yet, Dean smiles his soft smile and him and points ahead of Castiel. “Who’s that? Never seen that one before; is she a friend of yours? You should introduce me sometime.” Turning back, Castiel looks ahead of him.

No.

No, that’s just not possible.

He doesn’t remember.

When did he pick up the brush? When did he set up all his equipment? Everything is here. There is even some quiet music in the background. And the clock tells him it’s almost nine hours later. Dean went to work; and picked up eggs as Castiel had asked and then came home.

There is a painting of his mother; his dead mother. He still remembers the empty tub. He doesn’t remember where she comes from, but his gut hurts. Something can’t be right.

“It’s my mother. It’s my mother with her smelly men and the empty fridge and the too-tall dumpsters and she lay in the empty tub and she drowned and she slept and...”

Oh god.

“Uri”, he whispers. “Oh god, where is Uri?”

 

~*

 

“Where is Uri?”

The social worker grunts. She’s upset and tired and always annoyed. But this is important. Uri is missing and Castiel can’t remember where he saw him last. “No-one here has that name, now leave me alone, god damn it.” She always says that. In fact, everyone always says that. The nicer ones told him Uri was likely just playing with someone else right now. They are stupid, because they think Uri isn’t real. He’d prove them wrong. But he would need to find Uri for that.

Castiel sighs and turns away from the woman. Marc called this a nice place. It was for children who didn’t have anywhere else to go. Castiel was confused when Marc told him that, because they had _just_ taken him from his home. He obviously had somewhere to go. But nevertheless, he knows this is an orphanage. They are other kids here, too. Some are older than him and they said (not to him, but still), that no-one ever comes by to take somebody.

Castiel goes up to the window and looks outside. It’s raining rather heavily, so they can’t herd them outside to busy themselves. Marc also said he’d drop by to see how he’s doing. It’s been two weeks now, and Marc never came. Castiel knows he shouldn’t be disappointed, but still. Marc’s friends probably told him he can’t come visit. And he also never really saw this Mary-person.  But to be honest, he didn’t pay much attention to anyone around him when he’d been in the car. He’s seen cars before, sure, but he’s never been in one. The lights went by really fast and everything had been a blur. But it was loud, too; and he’d felt cramped.

He wants to go home. Not in a car; he’s just going to walk. At home he knows the dumpsters and when to get food and he knows what the neighbours look like and he knows how to avoid them and there’s the spot where he can watch the lights and the stars outside the window. Here, he doesn’t know anything like that. He doesn’t know these other children, he doesn’t know how to avoid them and the food here is strange. He knows it’s probably the nice food the nice book-place ladies would eat, but it’s so much every time. And when he doesn’t finish, they chastise him and seem angry.

They’re not all bad. He got new clothes and shoes and it’s strange to have things that fit and don’t have holes or are missing completely. He has a bed here, but it feels different. He enjoyed the mattress he found back home. It had been his; and his alone and this one didn’t belong to him. In fact, nothing of these things here belonged to him.

He can’t even see the city lights from here.

 

Sometimes, adults stop by. Ed, the oldest kid around here, says they’re “child-shopping”. They look at the children while they are playing and then decide if they like one of them. If they do, they talk to the ladies here and sometimes they talk to the child as well. Castiel is confused as what categories these adults judge after. The ladies always say to “look pretty”, but that didn’t really help him. No-one ever asked about him. After the first couple of times, the lady in charge got angry at him and slapped him across the cheek. Apparently he stared at the adults too much and for too long and that made them uncomfortable. It gives the place a bad name, she’d said.

Castiel thinks this place already has a bad name. He can’t compare, but he doesn’t like it here. Back home, things were simple. He knew exactly what was going on, and here everything is different. They want him to play with the others, but he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t know any of the games they’re playing and they don’t even like him. He just wants them to leave him alone. And he knows, he _knows_ , they’re talking about him. The kids aren’t even subtle. They point and laugh, while the ladies whisper in hushed voices behind closed doors. Castiel doesn’t know why it stings as much as it does. But it does; and he’d wish Uri would be here. But maybe it is better that he’s not? Probably they wouldn’t like Uri, too, and they might even be really mean to him. And Uri was hurt already. Still, he misses him and Castiel thinks a friend wouldn’t be so bad. He sighs and searches his seat by the window once again. Seeing the lights, at least, would cheer him up. He knows it’s futile, but hope prevails assumedly.

Maybe there will be stars in the sky later.

 

A week later, there are two men looking at the children. One of them is wearing a sweater, and the other one is holding a suitcase. Castiel wonders what’s inside. He’s clutching it tightly, and he knows it must be important. They’re smiling and they’re talking with the head lady and she looks relieved. He wonders why. Maybe they want to take two kids? Castiel knows that rarely happens, but apparently, it had happened before. She catches his eye and gestures him over. That’s strange. Maybe these guys didn’t like Castiel staring? But he still gets up from his spot at the too-dirty table and walks over to them. He looks at the men and says “Hello”, because that’s what people do. Sweater-guy smiles broadly and bends down to be on Castiel’s eye-level. “Hi there. My name’s Ryan and this is Stu. What’s your name?” Castiel tilts his head. No-one’s asked him that before, at least not in that tone. It’s weird and he isn’t sure if he likes it. “Castiel”, he says then and Stu – the guy with the suitcase – raises an eyebrow. “That sure is a mouthful. Did you never want to have a simpler name, like Paul?” Castiel frowns. “My name is not Paul. I’m Castiel.” Ryan huffs and softly punches his friend in the shin. “Don’t be rude. Stuart isn’t exactly the top-notch name around anywhere, y’know.” Stuart huffs. “At least people can spell that name.” Castiel grows confused. “Can you not spell Castiel? Shall I show you?” Ryan laughs: “Don’t mind Stu, he’s a bit slow on the uptake. How old are you, Castiel?” Castiel looks at him. His smile is nice, he thinks, and his eyes have a nice colour. Unlike Marc, he doesn’t have hair on his face. “I’m almost five”, he says. It would still be five weeks before he turned five. He’s exceptionally good at keeping track of the date. It took him a while though, to understand the importance of one’s age. “How old are you?” Ryan smiles at him. “I’m thirty-one, and old Stu is almost thirty-six.” Stu hits Ryan in the back of his head with his suitcase. “ _Almost,_ my ass! That’s still six months away, man!” “Language!” The head lady chastises him and Stu shuts his mouth. Castiel frowns. Is ass a bad word? The smelly men said it all the time. Mommy said it too, sometimes.

“Anyway”, Ryan says a little louder. “Me and Stu here, we watched you awhile. And we talked to each other and we decided we really like you. So much in fact, that we’d like to take you home with us. What do you say to that? Mrs. Henning told us you haven’t been here for very long.” Castiel tilts his head. “Why?” he simply asks, because no-one ever looked his way before. He doesn’t mind, but as the others told him vividly, he isn’t a _catch_ , whatever that means. Stu answers this time: “You seem to be the quiet sorts. We don’t want a baby, least not right away, and we’ve been looking everywhere for someone who can take care of themselves at least at little-“ “What Stu _means_ ”, Ryan interrupts, “is that he and I work quite a few hours. We’d take a few days off at first, of course, but none of us has experience with children. Mrs. Henning told us you take care of yourself extremely well, so we could even learn from you, in fact.” Ryan smiles and even Stu manages a friendly grimace.

“Can I see the lights?” He asks and Ryan frowns, looking to the head lady, who just shrugs. “The city lights”, Castiel clarifies.  “I can’t see the lights from here. The red and blue and yellow lights of the city, at night, when it gets dark. Can I see them?” Ryan looks to Stu and he shrugs. “Uh, I guess, yeah? We live on the edge of town, kind of, so I guess you can?” Castiel just nods. That’s good enough. “Okay. Do we go now?” He sees Ryan take a double-take, and he’s confused as to why. “You, you don’t have any more questions?” Castiel tilts his head. “What would you like me to ask?” “Uh, I dunno?” Stu says. “Maybe _is it nice there_ or _do I get my own room_ or _is there a playground_.” Castiel looks at Stuart. “I don’t care about any of these things. Do we go now?” Clearly confused, both men look to the head lady who just shrugs again. “I don’t mind. You just need to sign some papers for me, and you’re good to go. One of you could take Castiel to your car. Or do you have something to take with you, Castiel?” He ignores her and heads for the door.

Ryan and Stu seem nice, but he barely cares for them.

He’s going to see the lights again, and that means more than anything. Maybe the breeze will come back, too.

 

Stu sits with him in the car, while Ryan is inside signing the papers. “I wasn’t sure about a kid, y’know... but Ryan really wanted one, so here we are. I, uh, try to be a good dad or something. You had a dad before?” Castiel thinks that Stu is babbling. “No”, he replies, “but mommy often had smelly men over. One asked me to blow him. Do you know what that means?” Stu turns around in the front seat. “If anyone ever asks that of you again, you gotta say no, alright? And scream, if you have to.” He sets his jaw and Castiel looks at him. His expression reminds him of Marc’s. What that guy asked, it must have been something bad. He just nods.

“I’m sorry what happened to your mom, I really am.” Stu sounds sincere, and so does Castiel: “I’m not.”

 

Three weeks he stayed with Ryan and Stu. Both of them were really nice. Castiel felt like Stu had a harder time warming up to him than Ryan. As far as Castiel understands, Ryan showered him in love and he was supposed to like that. In all honesty, it threw him a bit off and he instinctively sought Stu out more. Ryan felt like one of these fantasy-parents he read about. When it had become apparent that Castiel could read on an at least five-grader-level, Ryan was over the moon – Stu said that, although he himself had been a little bit impressed. It had been praise, and it was something Castiel never heard before. It issued conflicting feelings in him, and he didn’t like it. It might make him _want_ , and he didn’t know if he could take that.

Even though he could read, Ryan took great pleasure in reading to him at night. He said it was something every child should experience and Castiel complied. He had a bed. A soft one; and it was even new! There were no stains on it anywhere and it didn’t smell funny. And honestly, he did quite enjoy Ryan reading to him. Stu joined sometimes, too, and they would read different parts in funny voices.

He almost didn’t miss Uri. The lights were pretty without him, too. And Uri always like the sky better.

It was nice, living with them. He could easily see the lights from his window, he would always get food if he wanted and he even played on a playground for the first time in his life. Maybe he’d even make a friend, in time. Ryan seemed to be very excited for that to happen. Castiel caught himself smiling a lot of times. There were no empty tubs here for a bath, and no men came to the door. Ryan and Stu really belonged to the nice people, like the big-book place ladies.

 

It’s why he’s at a loss right now. Ryan and Stu are good people; they are always nice and kind to others. Even though he caught Stu smoking one time, it seemed to be okay. He’d still been the same afterwards.

It’s why he’s so confused right now. He’s been sitting in the same spot for a while now, and he still doesn’t understand. The door is wide open and Castiel really ought to close it, but movement somehow eludes him. Marc sits next to him. Marc came here, and he’s been really nice. Part of Castiel wants to ask him why he never came to the orphanage, but at the moment, he doesn’t care. Marc didn’t bring the Mary-person with him this time, and frankly, Castiel doesn’t care about that either. “Can you tell me what happened?” Marc asks softly and Castiel doesn’t turn his head. “I don’t understand”, he says, “They were _good_. They were nice people, like you and the book-place-ladies. But he came anyway. He came, and he was _angry_ , and he was _bad_... and he didn’t like Ryan and Stu. He had a toy, like you do, and your friends, and he pulled it out. Why are your toys so loud?” He turns his head to look at Marc. “He called them gay. But I don’t understand.”

Marc licks his lips. “You see, this is quite complicated. Ryan and Stu... this man simply doesn’t like people like them. He’s wrong, but... sadly, they can’t all be stopped.” Castiel shakes his head. That doesn’t make sense. He clutches his stomach. He thinks he remembers hurting, because the man pointed his toy in his direction and there was a sound. He thinks he remembers the pain, but there’s no blood on him. He’s confused, because it doesn’t make sense.

“Gay means _happy_. Why does he kill them for being _happy_?”

 

~*

 

_“I found the stars at the bottom of the sea. The mermaids brought them to me, and I hold them dear.”_

 

~*

 

Someone screams. Castiel can almost hear them, but they are a bit too far away. Maybe he can understand them if he concentrates. It’s a word, he thinks. But the breeze is too loud. It’s interfering. Perhaps he should try to calm the breeze. He doesn’t remember how, though. He tries to remember quiet. But with the breeze and the distant screaming, that’s difficult.

He tries still.

 

He opens his eyes, and he sees nothing. The breeze is quieter now; and the screaming subsided quite a lot. He wonders who was screaming. Maybe he should say something. That might make the screaming stop entirely, wouldn’t it?

“He shot me”, he says, “but he didn’t shoot me.” No, wait, that doesn’t make any sense. “He shot them, because they were happy. And he shot me, and he didn’t.” The second part made no sense; again. But it felt important to say. Why was it important? Something else, he should say something else. “I drowned”, he says, “but I didn’t drown.”

No, no, no, that makes no sense as well. But it is _important_. He still sees nothing, so he closes his eyes again. Something hurts. Something hurts, and he wants to cry. The breeze picked up again and she’s howling now.

“You promised me”, he whimpers, “and yet, you failed me.”

Someone cries, but it’s not him.

There’s water in his ears.

 

~*

 

After that, Castiel goes back to the orphanage. He already misses his window with the light; and Ryan, and Stu. His gut still hurts a little from the not-wound. He decided to not tell anyone. They wouldn’t understand; and Castiel doesn’t even know how to describe it to make it sound possible. So he keeps quiet and hopes the pain is going to go away.

The head-lady is waiting for him at the door and she talks with Marc quickly. Again, he promises to come visit and Castiel realises this is what people call an “empty promise”. He simply wishes to cheer him up, so Castiel smiles and nods. He doesn’t want to disappoint Marc. The man turns around and leaves without a backward-glance. It’s unfair; that he gets to leave. The head-lady ushers him inside and tells him his old bed is not available. That’s okay. He didn’t care much for this spot, anyway. He gets a new bed; and it’s just as plain and empty as the other one. He crawls inside and wishes t were different.

He closes his eyes and dreams of the stars under the water.

 

It takes eight years before someone decides to adopt him again. He’s considered as “troubled” and is not recommended to new parents or “regular” people. Castiel doesn’t mind. He’s thirteen now, and he doesn’t really care. He’s older now than Ed was back in the day. Ed’s long gone, though.

He doesn’t want someone to adopt him. He thinks of mommy, and Ryan, and Stu and doesn’t want to go anywhere again. He misses Uri; and he misses the stars. A year ago, he climbed the roof to look at them, and he fell. He didn’t jump; and he didn’t fly, but he fell and he never hit the ground. Before the fall was over, he was on the ground and he realised he never climbed the roof in the first place. He remembers the breeze howling and he knew she was angry.

There’s a couple in the office today. When they waltzed in, Castiel didn’t pay them much attention. It’s likely they want to take a small child. Castiel turns a page in his book. The orphanage has a very limited possession of books; and he all read them thrice – even the ones for small children. It has been raining the past few days, so nobody was too keen to go outside. Castiel doesn’t mind. He’s happier inside here anyway.

Mrs. Henning comes in – he remembers her name now, after all these years, but he still prefers to call her head-lady – and she has the two people from earlier with her. Castiel notices a few of the children sit straighter. Every adult could be a ticket out of here and they’re all eager it would be theirs. And yet, she beckons Castiel over. He’s confused, but he gets up all the same. Maybe she wants him to run an errand for her; he’s done that quite a few times.

“This is the couple Klemms, Castiel”, she says and gestures to the people next to her. He looks over to them; and they nod to each other curtly. “We wish to take you with us”, Mr. Klemms says, “we hear from Mrs. Henning you have a troubled past. We had some bad publicity lately and wish to give you a better [environment](https://www.dict.cc/englisch-deutsch/environment.html). Would this arrangement please you?” Castiel looks them over and decides he does not care for these people. “Yes”, he simply answers and that’s the longest conversation he will ever have with these two people.

He, however, never returns to the orphanage.

 

Castiel learns that their son fucked up. Apparently, he got involved with the wrong kind of people and was found during a drug bust by the police. His face was widely known, and there had been little possibility for hiding his relation. The Klemms’ had been very well aware of their son’s behaviour and had cared little for it, as long as it would not affect them. Sadly, it had done it now and they were desperate for some good words about them in the papers.

Castiel was this good word.

Taking in a troubled child seems to be an all-around gesture of kind-heartedness, and frankly, this is his only purpose. But it also means they won’t give him away again. They seem to be rich, so he guesses they have just about everything one could hope for. On the drive there, he wonders if he should be curious if they have more children. He doesn’t care much for it; and he’s going to find out soon anyway. No point in asking, then.

Their house is a mansion. It looks exactly like all the mansions he’s read about in the books. These places are never well-lived in, he knows that. He wonders if it’s the house or the people. A maid shuffles forwards and takes him to a room. And it’s already fully furnished. They had planned ahead, it seems. It could also be the former room of their son, although Castiel does doubt that. Everything in here looks too new; and there’s nothing on the walls. The woman stands behind him, her head bowed. He wants to tell her she doesn’t need to do that, but no word leaves his lips. She gently informs him of the time-table of the house and reminds him dinner is to be taken in the dining hall, alongside Mr. And Mrs. Klemms. He should please call for her should he have any more questions. She makes a small bow and removes herself. He doesn’t react to her and enters the room fully. It feels cold and he knows this feeling will not change.

It’s quiet in the house.

The house is dead, he thinks.

 

~*

 

It’s easier this time to open his eyes. He thinks he hears sobbing. “Please”, someone says and he thinks they are crying. “I won’t fail again, I _promise_. Last time, it was just driftwood. It was _just driftwood_!”

He thinks he remembers that. “You saw me”, he says toneless, and there’s a hitch in the crying. “But I was too late”, the voice cries, “and I messed up. God, Cass, I’m so _sorry_.” He smiles. “It’ll be alright”, he says and tries to sit up straight. Dean helps him, steadies him – because of course it’s Dean, It’s always been Dean – and Castiel looks at him. The window is behind him and the sun starts to set. “Let’s go”, he says, “the mermaids are close to shore.”

 

~*

 

Four years he lived in this house, and it’s still just as dead as before. He’s seventeen now, and he doesn’t remember when he last saw his adoptive parents. It’s always cold in here, even when Bethany, the maid, cranks the heating all the way up. He doesn’t really mind. It doesn’t matter if it’s too cold. Everything in this house is dead and cold and Castiel wonders how anyone could willingly live here, especially if they had the money to go anywhere they pleased.

There is a beach; not too far from here. He discovered it one day and found himself returned every so often. The breeze was clearer there, and his gut felt strangely relieved when he watched the water. It is a weird feeling, staring upon the sea without looking for something. With Uri, he also lost the stars, and there are no lights anywhere, but the water has a calming effect. Luckily, it’s not a popular beach; he’s never seen another soul here. No, that was wrong, there’d been someone here. He stood on the sand, watching the waves, and there was someone just on the edge of the steps. Castiel could feel him staring and when he turned his head, the other boy was watching the water. When he saw Castiel watching him, he ran. He probably wouldn’t come back.

Today, Castiel finds himself on the beach once again. It’s a nice Saturday, the wind is calming and he’s been feeling awful the last couple of days. He likes being here just before the sun sets. The dying light tints everything in its colour and he enjoys the transition.

Something calls him, he thinks. He looks onto his feet and slips out of his shoes. They are brand-new, and he still remembers his other pair he fished from the dumpster. He never got around learning how to fix them. Someone else could use these shoes well, he thinks and he wonders why that thought crosses his head. He doesn’t realise to have walked into the water – there’s something telling him to go on, and it’s so _loud_ – until someone grabs him from behind and wrestles him back. He struggles: “What are you doing?! Let go of me!” He’s thrown onto the sand and the boy – he remembers him, it’s the same boy, and he’s so confused: “What the hell are you doing?!”

“I saw you”, he replies and seems shell-shocked. “I saw you; and I saw your shoes and you can’t go somewhere without your shoes.” Castiel doesn’t blink. Something seems strange, and he doesn’t understand. “You saw me?” he asks, because so much doesn’t make sense. There’s still something calling him and he doesn’t know what it is. The boy nods and Castiel lowers his gaze. Perhaps he should leave. But he can’t go without his shoes, so he grabs them to put them back on. His socks are wet, but he can deal with that. “Thanks”, he says, because he can’t just leave saying nothing. “But I don’t need you to see me.” He gets up and resists the urge to pat himself down. There’s a blue umbrella in the sand and it seems important. It shouldn’t be forgotten. “Don’t forget your umbrella. I’m sure it’s important to you.” He turns around and leaves.

He remembers the blue umbrella in the sand.

He remembers drowning.

He remembers not drowning.

Why was a blue umbrella in the sand if it wasn’t raining?

There was a boy on the empty beach and he had an umbrella.

 

~*

 

Castiel insists on walking to the shore, and Dean agreed. Castiel knows that Dean is worried; but at the same time he’s sure everything will be over quite soon. It’s not raining; and Castiel has his blue umbrella open. Dean stays very close to him without touching him and he knows it’s because Dean is scared something bad will happen.

“It’s not good when the mermaids come to shore, is it?” Dean asks and Castiel smiles. “No, it’s not. Didn’t you know, Dean? You told me all about the mermaids and yet you never knew they come to shore to _feed_?” Dean takes a step closer to him, as if he wants to protect him. “Their voyage makes them hungry, Dean. Mermaids devoured sailors ever since, why should they not take whoever they can at shore?”

“They didn’t take you”, Dean says quietly, damning it true and Castiel smiles. “When we were little, Uri and I would always watch the stars. He knew a lot about them, you see, so he told me all about them. He was an angel, and he was glad I found him and took him with me. But I lost Uri; and I’ve lost the stars, too. I always tried to find them again, but all I had were the lights and Uri never liked to look at them. So he never did.” Dean stays quiet and that’s alright.

 

They reach the beach and Castiel leaves the stairs without counting the steps. Behind him, he can hear Dean counting under his breath. 27 steps, and that’s important. Castiel doesn’t need to count. He comes to a halt on the 27th step and turns to the water. Dean stops next to him and waits. He obviously doesn’t know what for; and Castiel will not tell him. “Dean”, he says once the time is right. “Will you get me that driftwood from the water? I need it.” Dean clenches his jaw, but he goes dutifully.

His pants are wet when he emerges and Castiel feels a bit sorry. Wet pants must be uncomfortable. But Dean looks uncomfortable, no matter what. He looked uncomfortable even before. “Thank you”, he says when he takes the wood. Dean clenches his jaw again, but doesn’t say anything. Castiel inspects the wood. It looks good. It looks sturdy enough to last a while. It will hold. He smiles at Dean and takes his hand. The blue umbrella lies behind him in the sand.

He guides Dean back into the water, just deep enough for the wood to float. Dean clutches his hand tightly and he can tell Dean is scared. It is understandable. Castiel places Uri on the wood and makes sure he doesn’t topple over. “Wha... is that...? Where... where did you find _that_?” Castiel answers without turning. “Dean, this is Uri. I’m sorry for his state. I was quite limited with my skills at fixing him. He said it was alright though.” Uri looks awful. The years have not been very kind to him, but hopefully it won’t matter much. “And the mermaids returned him to me. So I’m going to send him to find the stars. He’ll go past the horizon, Dean, and he’ll find the stars. It’s what he’s supposed to do.” Finally, Castiel is satisfied with Uri’s placement. He smiles. “Good luck, Uri. After you found the stars, we should watch them again. I’ll find you, as I did before.” He gives the wood a slight push and it starts drifting off, toward the sinking sun. He holds Dean’s hand and watches after his friend.

“What about the mermaids?” Dean whispers. “They’re right here”, Castiel whispers back and points to the water.

The mermaids are quietly sliding through the water around their feet and they take off to guide Uri wherever he needs to go. He knows Dean can’t see them, but that doesn’t matter. He found the mermaids, and the stars are just past the horizon.

 

~*

 

_“What are you going to do now?”_

_“I have no limit at the shore. Wherever I want to go, the mermaids will guide me. Take my hand, and let me take you with me. I can’t find the end alone, but when you’re with me, I just might.”_

 


End file.
